THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


LIFE,    DEATH, 


AND 


OTHER  POEMS. 


BY 

GEORGE   H.   CALVERT. 


BOSTON: 
LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  PUBLISHERS. 

NEW  YORK: 
CHARLES  T.  DILLINGHAM. 

r 


Copyright,  1882, 
Br  GEORGE  H.  CALVEBT. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge: 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  II.  0.  Uoughton  &  Co. 


fS 
/as/ 


LIFE,  DEATH, 


761006 


CONTENTS. 


MM 

LIFE 7 

DEATH 12 

SPRING 17 

GARIBALDI 19 

ASPIRATION 24 

TRUTH 28 

IDEAL 30 

REAL 40 

THE  BEAUTIFUL 49 

ROSA 51 

FOUNDATIONS • 73 

POETRY 77 

CEASELESS  CREATION 78 

SKETCHES 83 

NO  END .  88 

OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY   .  91 


LIFE. 

LIFE  sparkles  with  poetic  gleamings, 
As  Heaven  with  lucent  stars. 
Unto  the  deeper  dreamings 

Of  the  soul's  solitude,  fresh  bars 
Of  tenderest  music  bring 
A  delicate  nourishment, 

As  to  our  inmost  virtue  sing 

Chorals,  of  angel  voices  blent. 

The  Powers  that  launch  a  human  soul 
On  life's  eternity, 
On  towards  a  boundless  goal, 
Joy  with  creative  glee, 


LIFE. 

Mid  supersolar  lights, 
Mid  unapproachable  mights, 
Whose  will  peoples  th'  infinitudes  of  space, 
Whose  playthings  are  wild  comets'  fiery  race. 

Children  of  light  are  we  and  truth, 
Luminaries,  to  beam  for  aye 
In  an  unwrinkled  youth ; 
Untouched  by  sour  decay, 
When  once  we  be  uprisen 
Above  this  earthen  prison, 
Loaded  no  more  with  flesh,  erect  and  glad 
We  soar,  buoyant  and  free,  only  with  spirit  clad, 

Towards  cleaner,  wiser  thought  ever  to  mount, 

Upbuoyed  by  Love,  that  streams, 
From  unimaginably  holy  fount, 

Through  all  our  doings,  fancies,  dreams, 


LIFE. 

Purging  them  of  their  stains 

And  red,  impassioned  pains, 
In  God's  soft  arms  enfolded  we  : 
This  is  our  possible  destiny. 

- 
Truth  watches  us  with  sleepless  eye 

From  far,  superimperial  throne, 
Set  deeper  in  the  glittering  sky 
Than  the  one  constant  star  who  all  alone 
Guides  our  dark  courses  on  the  sea,  — 
One  of  Truth's  raptured  servants  he, — 
While  she,  puissant  in  primal  dower, 
Sways  the  whole  universe  with  God's  umneted  power, 

And  hand  in  hand  with  her  twin-sister,  Love, 
Together  they  enclasp  the  naked  moth 
And  planets  and  the  steadfast  suns  above, 
And  all  that  throbs,  e'en  to  the  froth 


10  LIFE, 

That  rides  a  moment  on  the  billow's  back, 
Illuming  the  dim  caverns  of  remorse, 
Lighting  life  ever  on  its  shadowed  track, 
Missing  no  birth,  and  smiling  on  the  birthful  corse. 

Th'  invisible  Heaven  unresting  weaves 

Around,  within  us  life's  quick  web 
With  threads  finer,  more  beautiful  than  sheaves 
Of  light  forth  from  her  eyes  by  midnight  shed. 

And  what  a  gift  is  human  life  ! 

To  be  a  new  immortal  spirit ! 
Wooed  by  th'  eternities,  that  it  grow  rife 
The  bliss  and  beauties  of  angelic  good  t'  inherit. 

Around,  above,  within  us  beat,  — 
Inaudible  to  earthen  senses,  — 
Th'  eternal  pulses  of  creative  heat 

Aye  wreathing  spiritual  recompenses, 


LIFE.  11 

For  which,  through  holy  fires  that  in  us  burn, 

We  with  a  sane  forefeeling  yearn, 
We  the  choice  children  of  all-folding  Might : 
Not  compassed  round  with  darkness  are  we,  but  with 
light 


DEATH. 

LIFE'S  loving  brother,  indefatigable  Death, 

Keeps  Life  alert  and  young. 

Without  him,  Life's  sweet  breath, 
Rank  and  unbreathable  through  healthy  lung, 
Would  sicken  Life  himself,  that,  pale 
As  frighted  sky  in  an  eclipse, 
His  eyes  grow  blear,  his  spirits  fail, 
Smiles  vanish  from  his  leaden  lips, 
And,  shuddering  in  a  dull  despair, 
To  see  matter's  unchecked  increase, 
Would  shriek  towards  Heaven  a  piteous  prayer 

That  he  might  quick  decease, 
Ere  he  be  suffocated  by 


DEATH.  13 

His  offspring.    They,  up  piled  in  monstrous  mounds, — 

Now  that  they  cannot  die,  — 
No  longer  know  or  beauty,  grace,  or  bounds ; 
In  unproportioned  crowds  of  lurid  life 

Pressing  each  other  for  more  room, 

Wrangle  in  unavailing  strife, 

Faith  and  Hope  waning  in  the  gloom 

Exuded  from  usurping  matter ; 
The  watchful  angel  no  more  there  to  shatter 

Its  tightening  fetters,  hopeless  age 
Wailing  in  swarms  of  slow  decrepitude, 

Impotent  to  die,  and  thus  elude 
The  shocks  of  helpless  rage 

At  its  imprisonment  on  earth,  — 

Earth  in  soiled  ragged  gray  enwrapt, 

Of  its  dear  greenery  unsapt, 

Grown  to  a  gross  material  Hell, 

Where  never  more  is  heard  the  knell 


14  DEATH. 

Of  a  new  liberating  birth ; 

Boyhood  outnumbering  childhood,  manhood  both, 
While  age,  more  numerous  than  all  the  three, 

Gasps  in  imbecile  sloth, 
Cursing  its  heavenly  privilege  to  be. 

Banish  good  Death,  and  all  things  soon 

In  agony  would  pray 
For  his  recall,  to  lift  them  out  of  swoon, 

To  free  them  from  deathless  decay. 

Aye,  Heaven's  brave  minister  is  he, 
The  world's  unwearied  cleanser, 

Divine  in  his  ubiquity, 
Of  freshness  and  of  sweetness  the  dispenser, 

Unresting  key  that  is  forever 

Opening  the  bridal  bloom  of  spring ! 
Triumphant  spirit,  that  dost  seem  to  sever 
The  body  thou  renew 'st  and  dost  re-wing. 


DEATH.  15 

Gross  earthy  thoughts  have  made  the  scythe 
Thy  symbol,  with  grim  skeleton,  and  skull 
Grinning  in  mockery  of  life.     A  blithe 

Ethereal  figure,  beautiful 

As  a  May-dawn,  or  peeping  pink 

Of  the  first  rose,  or  maiden's  blush, 

Or  boreal  joy's  ecstatic  flush,  — 
These  were  fit  symbols  for  earth's  beautifier, 

Man's  lifter  to  th'  angelic  choir ; 
For  thou,  thou  art  the  link 
Twixt  life  and   life.     Dear  Death !    loud   hail  to 

thee! 
Thou  holy  handmaid  of  eternity ! 

All  nature  keeps  itself  alive  by  dying,  — 
Seeming  to  die ;  bodies  even  die  not, 
They  do  but  change ;  for  spirit  is  ever  plying 
Creative  power ;  and  so  from  rankest  rot 


16  DEATH. 

Of  matter  life  upsprings, 
Exulting  in  fresh  wings, 
Breathing  with  a  new  breath 
Inbreathed  from  high  beneficence :  THERE  is  NO  DEATH. 


SPRING. 

LATE  art  thou,  but  to  come  thou  couldst  not  fail, 

Divinest  minister  of  the  divine. 

Firstling  of  the  great  Sun,  we  hail 
Thy  bounteous  plenitude  of  green, 
Sprung  from  the  deep  mysterious  mine 

Of  life,  unfathomable  and  unseen. 

Thou  floodst  our  hearts  with  beauty  from  the  bloom 
Of  thy  young,  happy  face, 
And  from  our  thoughts  their  gloom 
With  virgin  joyousness  dost  chase, 
And  tremulous  glee  of  flowering  trees, 

With  whose  fresh  beauties  the  caressing  breeze 

Dallies,  showering  sweet  breath  into  the  air, 

2 


18  SPRING. 

And  sunny  kisses,  with  bold  stealth 
Seizing  their  vernal  perfumes  rare, 

Enriching  nature  with  her  own  new  wealth. 

This  sudden  sun-born  burst 
Of  leafy  life  all  round  our  earth, 

Quick  resurrection  of  hushed  nature,  hearsed 
In  winter's  crypt,  this  bright  rebirth, 
This  universal  blossoming, 
This  certain  strangling  of  cold  death 
By  the  warm  Herculean  breath 

Of  the  reviving  Spring 
In  her  old  earthen  cradle,  —  this 

Ehythmic  renewal  of  deep  nature's  bliss, 

Is  token  from  th'  all-loving  and  all-seeing 
Of  man's  reblossom'd  joy  in  a  perennial  being. 


GARIBALDI. 

AGAIN  is  Italy  summoned  to  mourn, 
Yet  with  a  thankful  cheerfulness, 
That  her  loved  Hero  is  upborne 
When  the  high  work,  't  was  his'  to  bless 

His  country  with,  is  done. 
Distracted  Italy  is  one, 
United,  self -directing,  free 

Of  foreign  force,  while  he, — 
One  of  her  saviors,  who 
As  child  could  bravely  save  an  adult  life, 

And,  foremost  of  a  patriot  crew, 
Spent  a  stout  manhood  in  ennobling  strife,  — 
Ascended  to  his  burnished  seat 


20  GARIBALDI. 

Blest  by  full  hearts,  which  he  had  swelled 

With  freemen's  blood  and  made  to  beat 
With  pulses  that  had  quelled 

Fierce  tyrannies.     The  famous  man 
Passed  calmly  on,  more  reverenced,  more  dear, 

To  a  new,  thankful  nation  than 

Any  son  living. 

'Bove  his  bier 
All  the  past  greatness  shone  of  Italy ; 

All  souls  that  through  the  struggling  ages 
Had  boldly  fostered  her  high  destiny, 
The  men  who  live  in  consecrated  pages, 
Whom  we  that  breathe  outside  the  warm  confines 
Of  Alps  and  Apennines, 

Study  for  high  enlightenment 

And  stouter  bracing  of  our  souls,  — 

Pages  whence  the  new  hardiment 

Of  hero  or  of  thinker  rolls  . 

Upon  us  waves  of  strength  and  thought : 


GARIBALDI.  21 

These  gloried  ones  shine  there  in  circles  wrought 
Of  superearthly  splendor,  quick  to  greet, 

With  heavenly  salutation  meet, 
Their  Garibaldi,  him  who,  single-handed, 
Had  wrested  from  the  tyrants  'gainst  him  banded 
Populous  Naples  and  broad  Sicily, 
And  given  them  to  triumphant  Italy : 

Cavour,  Mazzini,  who  so  well 
In  his  large  soul  foredrew  the  nation's  span, 
Victor  Emmanuel, 
The  patriot  King,  and  man 
So  true,  that  he  deserved  to  be 
King  of  emancipated  Italy ; 

Manin,  and  many  others  who 

With  heart-beat  strong  and  true, 
Had  spent  them  for  their  country's  good. 
To  him  these  were  the  nearest, 
Yet  hardly  were  they  dearest, 


22  GARIBALDI. 

So  many  had  outpoured  their  blood 
To  enrich  with  freedom  a  lov'd  land. 
The  aspiring  Poets  all  were  there. 
Poets  are  patriots  by  command 
Of  love,  warmed  by  the  ideal  glare 
Which  lights  their  being.     Alfieri  the  proud, 
Who  sang  of  liberty,  with  a  stern  pen 
Straight'ning  the  souls  of  crouching  countrymen, 
To  lone,  sublimest  Dante,  whom  the  shroud 
Of  exile  could  not  deaden,  but  he  soared 
On  flashing  pinion  from  Hell's  lowest  story, 

Through  thickly  peopled  Purgatory, 
High  up  to  saintly  Beatrice  the  adored. 
All  came  who  with  the  glow  of  beauty 
Illuminate  their  land  through  Art, 
Or  clasp  her  in  the  motherly  arms  of  duty . 

Savonarola  took  close  part 
Beside  Da  Vinci,  Angelo,  Raphael ; 


GARIBALDI.  23 

Heaven-widening  Galileo  hand  in  hand 

Hovered  with  Titian.     The  strong  spell 

Of  the  new  glory  swelled  the  crowded  band 
With  great  Antiquity,  when  Rome 

v* 

Was  Europe.     Came  from  highest  home 

The  Brutuses  and  Cicero, 

Long  clean  of  anger,  pain,  and  woe, 

True  Scipios  and  Antonines, 
All  glittered  round  Caprera's  sea-set  lines. 

With  lightning  looks  of  exultation, 

Outshining  earth-drawn  ecstasy,  — 
Looks  of  emancipation, — 

Amid  seraphic  melody, 

Too  piercing  pure  for  mortal's  ear, 

With  glow,  as  of  rainbows  intermingled, 
Great  Garibaldi  tenderly  outsingled, 

Heavenward  with  jubilant  joy  they  steer; 
Him,  now  to  immortal  spirit-figure  moulded, 
They  loving  waft  aloft  in  angel-arms  enfolded. 


ASPIRATION. 

TH'  innumerable  Suns  that  star  the  vault 
We  wonder  in,  when  our  own  Sun 
Unrolls  mysterious  night,  assault 
The  soul  with  such  sublimities,  they  stun 

Our  earthly  thinkings.     When  we  strain. 
Feeling  and  thought  to  seize  their  meanings, 
We  vivify  the  brain 
With  quick  creative  gleamings, 
And  these,  speaking  with  voice  of  solar  light, 
Unveil  a  supersolar  Might. 

Man's  thought  can  never  grasp, 
But  his  high  feeling  can  enclasp 
This  Might.     With  the  spirit  of  the  whole 


ASPIRATION.  25 

Can  swell  and  bound  the  soul, 
For  of  infinitude  we  are, 

And  towards  the  farthest  star 
Can  speed  ourselves  in  happy  awe, 

v* 

Seize  its  eternal  law, 
And  feed  great  yearnings.     We 
Are  parcel  of  eternity, 

A  portion  of  all  that  we  feel  and  see ; 

Not  th'  outward  world  alone,  but  Deity 

Mirrors  itself  upon  the  procreant  brain, 

That  glowing  centre  of  circumferences 

Unlimited,  where  endless  is  our  gain. 

Spirit  is  never  subject  unto  fences, 
But  with  devout  elation 

Moves  through  the  brightening  brightness  of  creation. 
Man  can  reflect  this  brightness 
Because  of  the  inward  Tightness 

Of  his  deep  nature.     He  longs  for  the  better ; 


26  ASPIRATION. 

His  true  nobility  chafes  at  the  fetter 
Of  bondman,  aiming  to  be  freer, 

On  ever  higher,  purer,  to  uprear 

His  being.    And  in  his  puissant  self 

Is  the  divinity  that  aye  protests 

'Gainst  pressures  that  would  lay  him  on  the  shelf 

Of  apathy,  foiling  his  high  behests. 

He  is  a  winge'd  creature,  his  wings  beating 
Invisibly  the  air,  to  lift  him 
To  higher  ranges,  thus  defeating 
The  lower  j  he  aye  longs  to  sift  him 
Of  gross  carnalities,  and  mount 

Towards  spirit's  primal  fount, 
Struggling  to  obey  his  soul's  attraction 
From  mouldy  sloth  to  polished  action, 
Inwardly  mourning  when  dull  vice 

Embraces  him  in  its  constrictive  ice. 

At  times,  amid  the  passions  devilish 


ASPIRATION.  27 

Of  a  bad  man,  upshoots  a  holy  wish, 
Like  infant's  chirp  within  a  robber's  cave, 
That  circumfuses  all 

The  father's  heart,  melting  the  pall 
Of  evil ;  or  like  a  single  star, — when  rave 
The  tempest's  demons,  —  that  peeps  through  the 

storm's 

Cold  blackness,  and  the  sailor's  heart  rewarms. 
Life  should  be  a  curriculum  of  prizes  : 
Man  is  the  more  himself  the  more  he  rises : 
'T  is  his  angelic  instinct  to  aspire  : 
Manhood  must  mount,  from  low  to  high,  from  high  to 

higher. 


TRUTH. 

IN  the  hale  birth-throes  of  first  being 
Was  born  this  God,  this  bold,  all-seeing, 

All-beautifying  Truth, 

This  old,  eternal  Youth. 

A  universal  presence, 
He  rides  upon  the  Sun's  fierce  beams, 
He  floats  among  the  Sea's  calm  dreams ; 
His  birthful  breath  makes  nature's  crescence. 
A  thousand  stars  glow  in  his  eye  ; 
Quintessence  of  divinity, 
God  calls  him  when  he  doth  create ; 
He  in  creation  hath  no  mate. 
Without  him  man  were  less  than  beast, 


TRUTH.  29 

And  life  a  tasteless,  hopeless  feast. 
Loosen  Truth's  hold  on  human  thought, 
Shadow  his  splendor  in  the  feeling, 
And,  like  a  painted  savage  caught 
By  cruel  potions,  man  goes  reeling. 

In  the  broad  brain  Truth  quires 

As  lightning  in  the  air, 
When,  leaping  from  his  cloudy  lair, 
Stagnation  he  with  motion  fires. 

Man's  quenchless  guardian-light, 
Truth  pilots  him  through  wreckful  night, 
And  should  he  stumble  into  crime, 
Uplifts  him  with  a  call  sublime. 

Truth  is  man's  spiritual  Sun, 
Older,  more  luminous,  than  the  one 
We  walk  by  in  Time's  small  periphery, 
Our  beaming  monitor  through  all  Eternity. 


IDEAL. 

IN  what  a  nest  of  love  and  joy, 

And  holy  mystery, 

• 

He  lay,  the  baby  boy  ! 
Hope  in  her  heavenliest  glee 
Hovering,  and  pouring  from  above 
Sparkles  into  the  eyes  of  joy  and  love. 

A  soul-bud,  beautiful 
As  angel's  smile  on  the  dawn  beaming, 
Life,  mighty  life,  astreaming 
Through  him  in  currents  full 
Of  perfumed  promise,  his  soft  breathing 
To  firmer  beauty  roseate  limbs  awreathing  ; 
For  the  great  Sun  looks  on  him  lovingly, 


IDEAL.  31 

Ripening  the  finer  elements  of  air 

To  mould  him  to  proportion's  grace,  while  He 

Who  moulds  the  Sun,  and  hath  creative  care 

Of  universal  being, 

Freights  his  new  breath  with  subtle  filaments 
That  speed,  like  lightning  to  our  seeing, 
To^  the  brain,  building  with  fire  its  vast  contents, 
Sowing  it  with  the  seeds 
Of  crowned  thoughts  and  deeds, 
Making  it  exquisitely  rife 
With  all  the  fragrancies  of  life. 
His  daily  living  grows  to  be 
One  long  unbroken  blossoming, 
And  like  some  tropic  tree, 
Unstung  by  frost's  cold  sting, 
In  prodigal  opulence 
Outthrowing  mingled  sweet  incense 
Of  flower  and  fruit  from  the  same  branch, 


32  IDEAL. 

New,  generous  plans  bloom  near  to  staunch 
Nutritious  deeds.     But  he  is  still  a  child 

Springing  toward  youth  from  station 
To  station,  on  the  strong  faith  lifted 
Of  fearless  expectation; 
And  ever  undefiled, 
For  that  young  spirit  is  so  gifted 
"With  human  upward  swing 
That  in  his  brain  is  plied 
Triumphantly  Life's  subtlest  skill 
In  moulding  individual  will. 
Pure  as  the  thoughts  of  modest  bride, 
Or  consciousness  that  good  deeds  bring, 
Are  his  desires. 
Like  lofty  spires 
Upstreaming  in  the  sky 
From  solid  sure  foundations, 
They  mount  j  not  groveling  in  a  sordid  sty, 


IDEAL.  33 

But  in  their  swift  mutations 
Are  so  unselfed  that  angels  hear  them, 

Taking  delight  to  come  down  helpful  near  them. 

The  warm  tempestuous  straits 
That  palpitating  youth  sails  through 
He  passed  unscathed  amid  the  baits 

Of  fragrant  sensualities  untrue, 

Above  his  head  unconsciously  unfurled, — 
Daunting  th'  hypocrisies  of  the  world,  — 

The  hallowed  flag  of  innocence. 

He  entered  manhood's  strenuous  path, 

Invigorated  by  the  intense 

Clean  strength  of  youth's  elastic  bath. 

Fresh  life  he  drew  from  a  so  fervent  power, 

It  strengthened,  sweetened,  sanctified  each  hour. 

Welcome  as  scented  breeze 
In  spring,  mysterious  as  the  light 

Of  silent  stars,  resistless  as  decrees 

3 


34  IDEAL. 

Of  Fate,  and  with  the  might 
Of  deepest  heave  of  Ocean, 
Cometh,  flame-crested,  the  warm  wave 
Of  love,  flooding  with  rapturous  emotion, 
And  with  imaginings  so  bold  and  brave, 
His  being's  core,  that  he  feels  recreated, 

As  with  a  larger  soul  dilated. 
And  now  his  life  put  on  its  earnestness. 
The  titles,  husband,  father,  were  a  claim 
His  fellows  had  that  he  should  bless 
His  household  with  th'  ascending  flame 
Kindled  by  countrymen's  and  neighbor's  prayer 

For  its  victorious  weal. 
His  manhood  shone  in  thoughtful  care 
Of  largest  interests,  such  as  deal 
With  the  mind's  loftiest  life,  and  with 
Sound  enterprises,  of  such  pith 

They  strengthen  while  they  purge 


IDEAL.  35 

The  vital  currents  of  communities. 

His  hopes,  sprung  from  the  purest  deeps 
Of  intuition,  bore  him  to  the  verge 

Of  present  possibilities. 

He  stood  upon  the  heights  whence  leaps 

To  loftier  heights  prophetic  vision, 
(The  heights  that  gender  popular  derision.) 

In  these  profoundest  moods, 
When  on  itself  the  mind  creative  broods, 
He  looked  like  Shelley,  or  still  younger  Keats, 
"When  rapt,  by  inspiration  inly  stirred, 

With  head  upturned,  on  magic  seats 
They  hearken  for  the  voice  by  genius  heard ; 

For  he,  too,  was  a  poet.     Verse 
He  wrote  not,  but  that  rhythmic  sweep  of  thought 

He  had  which  comes  of  feelings  wrought 

By  noble  sympathies,  that  nurse 

The  will  to  lofty  deeds,  and  send 


36  IDEAL. 

The  wishes  outward  where  they  blend 
With  beauty's  magic  to  create 

On  the  broad  solid  ground 
Of  practice  just,  compelling  very  Fate 
To  second  his  aspiring  bound. 
So  rich  he  was  in  human  feeling, 
And  on  his  lustrous  path  he  trod 
"With  such  religious  sure  reliance 
Ever  to  largest  principles  appealing, 
That  like  great  Kepler  in  celestial  science, 

He,  too,  could  think  the  thoughts  of  God. 
Unto  the  beautiful,  —  wherein 
Creative  mind  is  most  revealed,  — 

His  soul  was  so  akin, 

That  to  him  were  unsealed 

Secrets  of  the  vast  All. 

Much  of  its  mystery 
Was  opened  to  him  in  the  fall 


IDEAL.  37 

Of  Niagaras,  in  the  tideful  sea, 

In  midnight  orbs'  wise  twinkle, 
In  the  calm  throb  of  his  own  pulse, 

In  the  auroral  lights  that  sprinkle 

^ 

The  night-born  dew  with  glory, 

In  the  great  thunders  that  convulse 
The  clouds,  in  all  the  heroic  traits  of  Story. 

Nay,  in  the  common  and  the  little 
Flashes  the  beautiful, 

In  grass  and  grain,  in  every  tittle 
Of  visible,  audible  nature,  in  the  dull 

As  in  the  bright.     Creative  power 
Is  nowhere  felt  but  there  upflames  the  dower 

Of  beauty's  life.     The  microscope 

Reveals  the  beautiful  in  mud, 
Flaring  upon  us  an  immense  new  hope, 
For  tiniest  earthy  particle  is  a  bud 
Of  promise.    What,  —  could  its  keen  focus  reach 
Into  the  darkest  heart,  —  what  would  it  teach  ? 


38  IDEAL. 

Men,  living  men,  were  his  rich  source 
Of  knowledge ;  for  in  them  the  fineness 

Outshone,  beside  the  force, 

Of  infinite  divineness. 
His  daily  comrades  were  the  great 
Of  the  big  past,  men  of  such  weight 

Their  fiery  thoughts  and  deeds 

Become  prolific  seeds 
Planted  in  the  universal  mind. 
The  mightiest  of  men,  the  Nazarene, 
The  topmost  man  of  all  his  kind, 

Whose  lif  e  was  in  the  clean 
Inspiring  deeps  of  sympathy, 
Him  he  aye  studied  as  an  exemplar 
Of  the  highest  in  humanity. 
Thinking  good  thoughts,  looking  afar 

Beyond  the  smaller  self, 
The  worldly  lusts  of  show  and  power  and  pelf, 


IDEAL.  39 

His  day  lighted  by  loves,  ne'er  dimmed  by  fears, 
He  grew  in  wisdom  with  the  years, 

His  life  one  limpid  stream  of  joyous  duty, 
Which  filled  it  full  as  June  with  beauty, 

^» 

So  full  that  time  brought  him  no  oldness. 
Spirit  ruled  him  as  it  ruled  Socrates ; 
And  so,  when  on  his  flesh  at  last  crept  coldness, 
Shone  bright  before  his  spiritual  eye  the  keys 
Of  th'  Heav'n  he  had  made  about  him  on  the  earth ; 

And  from  his  body's  bier 
He  rose  in  th'  ecstasy  of  a  new  birth, 
His  face  aglow  with  beams  thrown  from  th'  angelic 
sphere. 


REAL. 

0  FOE  a  pen  whose  ropy  ink 

Were  purged  by  piteous  tears ! 
So  when  I  come  to  think 
Of  th'  omnipresent  ill  that  sears 
The  tender,  sapful,  noble  human  heart, 
Words  may  grow  tremulous  with  fellow-pain, 

But  bold  to  take  the  part 
E'en  of  the  lowest,  who  have  lain 
Wallowing  in  crime  and  lust. 
Can  we  be  loyal  to  our  higher  being, 
Can  we  be  pious,  loving,  just, 
Our  inward  eyes  open  to  seeing 
What  went  before  and  is  to  come,  — 
Our  love  and  pity  will  grow  deeper, 


REAL.  41 

But  so  with  hope  enlightened,  that  the  dumb 
Would  speak  to  us,  and  smile  the  very  leper. 
In  what  a  hot-bed  of  uncleanness,  want, 

And  gross  publicity, 
- 

That  mother,  famished,  gaunt, 

Gives  birth  to  him  who  is  to  be 

A  man  'mong  other  men ! 
The  first  breath  that  babe  breathes  is  foul, 
His  cradle  is  a  crowded  pen 
Of  blighted  manhood,  whence  a  ghoul 
Would  fly,  baffled  by  bloodless  pallor, 

Where  unseen  devils  grin 
In  mockery  of  human  squalor 

And  misery's  plaintive  din. 

In  such  an  atmosphere, 

In  a  slim  stalk  so  rooted, 
None  of  the  juices  can  inhere 

Of  blooming  babyhood. 


42  REAL. 

The  mother's  milk  that  makes  his  blood 

With  oozy  slime  is  sooted, 
No  blossoms  sprout,  but  only  thorns, 
And  these  turn  tortuous  back  upon  their  stem, 
Poisoning  its  tardy  sap.     Upon  his  morns 
Nor  joy  nor  sunbeams  shine,  to  sweeten  them. 

Begotten  so,  so  bred, 
The  sportful  fairies,  whose  delight 
It  is  to  play  among  the  curls 

Of  dimpled  childhood's  head, 
Sprinkle  upon  him  tiny  pearls 
Of  tears,  and  saddened  take  their  flight. 
Missing  th'  ambrosial  endless  bath 
Of  feminine  tenderness,  that  hath 
Quick  nurture  in  it  for  his  craving  heart, 

He  languishes  and  droops. 
Hardly  hath  he  a  childhood  in  these  coops 
Of  deprivation,  suffering  aye  the  smart 


REAL.  43 

Of  pain,  he  whose  whole  day  should  be 

Joyous  as  morning's  sunlit  dew, 

Painless  as  a  young  air-fed  tree, 

Thankful  as  April's  carol  new. 
Nature,  with  her  close  lessons,  was  to  him 
Less  than  a  step-dame.    In  her  lenient  lap 
'T  was  not  for  him  to  lie  :  he  was  a  limb 
Torn  from  her  cruelly,  which  her  sweet  sap 
Could  no  more  animate  ;  for  e'en  her  fount 

Within  him  was  befouled  by  rank 
Bitter  and  weedy  juices. 
The  flood  from  feeling's  sluices 

Ran  inward ;  he  became  a  tank 

Secluded,  sunless,  whence  could  mount 

No  breathing  to  the  God  of  Right. 

Was  due  his  soured  maimed  plight 
To  antenatal  deprivation. 


44   ^  REAL. 

Not  guilty  was  he  of  self-desecration : 

His  birth-gifts  were  lesions  and  losses  ; 
Nature  herself,  she  shut  him  off 

From  Nature ;  for  her  boons  he  had  her  crosses  ; 

A  nightmare  dim,  was  life,  he  could  not  doff ; 

The  goads  that  pricked  him  to  a  guilty  tomb 
She  fastened  on  him  in  the  womb. 

He  was  born  chained,  nor  could  he  wish  him  free 

Growing  into  false  freedom  he  became 

A  Bedouin  of  the  street ;  he  could  not  be 
Forecasting  worker  ;  a  good  name 
He  never  could  be  crowned  with ;  Crime 
Crouching  about  him,  spread 
Its  pliant  net,  which  Time 
Tightened  about  his  head. 

What  is  man  —  what,  society  — 
And  what  is  Nature's  self,  that  she 


REAL.  45 

Should  mock  us  with  such  fellows,  men 

Who  issue  not  from  homes,  but  from  a  den, 

To  prey  upon  their  brothers ;  for  they  are 

Our  brothers,  seared  at  birth  with  sin's  black  scar, 

-  Souls  damned  ere  they  have  lived  their  life, 
Their  life  a  doom  of  hate  and  bleeding  strife. 
Why  live  they,  these  curst  creatures,  men  who  dare 
No  whither  look ;  if  inward,  they  are  met 

With  the  soul's  shudder ;  if  they  glare 
At  Heaven,  the  stars  twinkle  a  threat. 

Mysterious  being  sweeps 
From  height  to  height,  from  deep  to  deeps, 
Higher  and  deeper  ever ; 
And  man's  upright  endeavor 
Can  compass  more  and  more  these  heights, 
The  more  his  own  deep  being 
Grows  master  of  the  mights 
Wherewith  his  soul  is  gifted  by  the  all-seeing. 


46  REAL. 

Himself  partakes  of  the  creative  power : 

This  is  his  bounteous  mighty  dower. 
Such  mastery  is  a  token 
Of  manhood,  strong  to  have  broken 
Many  a  chain  that  bound  him, 

And  with  Truth's  diadem  becrowned  him. 
Within  him  are  the  forces  that  uplift 

His  life  to  this  free  altitude. 
Such  freedom  is  a  gift 

With  spiritual  sovereignty  endued. 
He  is  become  more  than  an  earthly  king, 
And  rules,  as  Jesus  rules, 

Through  indestructible  rights  which  bring 
Resistless  sway,  that  schools 
Men's  minds  through  their  own  light 

Kindled  by  the  supremest  might. 
In  this  exalted  zeal 

Angels  become  his  aids,  for  they 


REAL.  47 

Are  only  men  who  think  and  feel 
More  finely,  having  dropped  their  clogging  clay. 

When  through  a  self-earned  moral  sovereignty 

Many  shall  have  become  loyal  and  free, 

Then  these  can  free  their  brothers,  'bolish  jails, 

Silence  the  multitudinous  wails 

Of  vice  and  crime.     But  we  are  all 
As  yet  too  heedless  of  the  higher  call, 
Too  much  the  slaves  of  sense  and  fallacies. 
We  build  luxurious  jails,  and  call  them  palaces ;  • 
Out  of  the  common  self  and  vain  conceits 
We  build  theologies  that  cannot  save, 
Being  but  rotting  steps,  showy  deceits, 

That  wilder  and  the  more  enslave. 
This  self-emancipation  is  a  weary 

Unceasing  battle  of  the  higher 
Against  the  lower  self,  often  with  dreary 


48  REAL. 

Outlook ;  but  God  is  not  a  liar, 
Who  gave  us  reason,  hope,  and  aspiration 

That  they  should  droop  unto  prostration. 
Onward  and  upward  is  the  rally-cry 

That  ever  sounds  above  the  din 
Of  life's  tough  war,  aye,  cheering  us  to  die 

Champions  of  freedom  from  sour  sin. 
Deep  in  the  best  souls  lives  a  true  ideal, 
And  interlinked  therewith,  as  love  with  duty, 

Forever  glows  the  consciousness 
That  we  ourselves  and  brother  men  can  bless 

With  daily  and  supremest  beauty, 
Marrying  th'  ideal  with  the  real. 


THE  BEAUTIFUL. 

I. 

THROUGHOUT  th'  eternal  sequences  of  time 

Momently  is  shed  by  every  fiery  Sun 

Of  the  hot  hundred  millions  safely  spun 

Into  immensity  by  the  sublime 

Almighty  Will,  the  Beautiful,  whose  clime 

Is  the  universal  air,  across  which  run 

Ceaseless  creative  messages  that  stun 

Our  thought,  straining  after  words  to  rhyme 

With  th'  unimaginably  great.     In  each 

Creative  thought  glows,  as  its  very  soul, 

The  Beautiful,  which  is  essence  divinest, 

That  colors,  shapes  and  perfumes  the  vast  Whole 

And  every  part,  e'en  to  the  simple  finest, 

Sparkling  wherever  thought  and  feeling  reach. 


THE  BEAUTIFUL. 

n. 

BEAUTY'S  deep  office  holy  is  to  teach, 
Through  the  purification  of  delight 
Kindling  into  clear  vision  the  higher  sight. 
Within  a  cove,  upon  a  sunny  beach, 
I  have  seen  the  mighty  Ocean, — without  breach 
Of  his  high  privileges,  stormful  might 
Laying  aside,  —  come  calmly  in,  with  bright 
Dear  children,  round,  ruddy,  as  ripened  peach, 
To  toy,  gently  rolling  low-crested  billows 
Into  their  fearless  arms,  —  like  monarch  playing 
On  the  floor  with  his  gleeful  boys,  arraying 
Himself  in  love  instead  of  robe  and  crown, — 
The  waves  wooing  the  little  limbs  like  pillows : 
A  sight  the  eyes  in  lustra!  tears  to  drown. 


KOSA. 

SHE  was  a  child,  and  not  a  child, 
She  looked  so  blandly  wise 
Out  of  her  large  blue  eyes. 
Her  gentleness  was  wild 
With  a  quick  freedom  fawn-like, 
And  freshness  that  was  dawn-like. 
Docile  to  all  her  teaching, 
Yet  from  within  she  seemed  to  draw 
The  best,  and,  as  she  were  upreaching 
For  something  that  she  heard  or  saw, 

Would  silent  sit,  her  head 
Upturned  in  visionary  mood, 
As  though  her  tender  thoughts  were  fed 


52  ROSA. 

By  angels  with  unearthly  food. 
Two  romping  brothers,  who  were  older, 
At  first  would  rudely  mock  her 

For  trances  that  did  hold  her 
Apart.     But  soon  they  ceased  to  shock  her 
With  boyish  gibings.     She 
By  sure  degrees  became 
To  them  a  mystery 
For  which  they  had  no  taunting  name. 
The  father's  love  almost  to  awe 
Was  lifted  towards  his  blooming  girl, 
Who  with  deep  tenderness  could  thaw 
His  colder  moods,  as  she  would  coy  unfurl 
Before  him  thoughts  so  luminously  true 
They  soothed  with  lessons  holier  than  he  knew. 

Lovelier  she  blossomed  with  each  year, 
As  though  creative  spirit  rained  its  best 
Upon  her,  and  would  rear 


ROSA.  53 

A  being  ablaze  with  Beauty's  sovereign  crest, 
Beauty,  sovereign  solely  through  glow 

Of  clean  unselfish  feeling ; 
And  then  it  is  the  promise-bended  bow 

A  heaven  above  revealing. 
Her  father  and  her  brothers  felt,  — 

And  half  unconsciously, — 
This  subtle  power,  that  could  melt 
To  tenderness  the  three, 
And  on  her  bearing  throws 
Its  grace,  as  on  the  rose 
A  fragrant  sap  the  rose's  loveliness. 

Upon  the  mother's  heartstrings  press 
Close  sympathies  so  deep 
They  her  whole  nature  tune 
To  harmonies  that  steep 
Her  in  a  faith  that  nothing  can  impugn. 
Every  hour  she  would  fold 
The  daughter  to  a  breast, 


54  ROSA. 

That  almost  ached  with  love  it  could  not  hold, 
Thus  easing  a  sweet  fulness  that  oppressed. 
Rosa  would  lie  in  infinite  content, 
Their  beings  each  in  other  blent. 

At  noon  one  day  she  was  not  there ; 
Empty  at  dinner,  too,  her  place. 
Then  they  all  learnt  what  a  cold  air 
They  breathed  without  her  glowing  face. 
And  still  she  came  not :  then  grew  pale 
The  mother,  restless  the  two  brothers. 

The  father,  with  a  male 

Paternal  strength  comforting  the  lone  mother's 
Quick  fears,  strode  into  the  small  town, 

The  boys  following  in  tears. 

Soon,  loosened  from  all  fears, 

They  were  upon  her  track ; 
For  she  already  had  a  dear  renown 


ROSA.  55 

For  beauty  and  for  kindliness.     Ran  back 

The  joyful,  weeping,  elder  brother 

To  bring  joy  to  his  weeping  mother. 
They  found  her  in  a  fever-stricken  hovel, 

With  soft  wet  cloths  cooling  the  skin 

Of  two  young  children.    They  who  grovel 
In  the  abjectness  of  vain  self-pampering 

Would  start  at  that  which  Cherubin 

Are  holier  for  witnessing.  — 
Beside  them,  on  another  bed  of  straw, 

Their  mother  lay,  her  features  lank 
With  the  worn  pallor  which  gaunt  fevers  gnaw. 
When  Rosa  moved  to  follow, 

She  scarcely  had  the  strength  to  thank 
Her  gentle  nurse.     When  Rosa  kissed  her  hollow, 

Wan  cheek,  she  reverently  laid 

Her  hand  upon  the  child,  and  said, 
"  0  come,  0  come  again !  " 


66  ROSA. 

Her  words  thrilling  with  thankfulness  and  pain. 
The  body  goes,  the  soul  remains. 
When  Rosa  passed  into  the  street 
Her  presence  still  was  felt,  nor  could  the  pains 

Resume  their  wasting  heat. 
A  soul-joy  planted  near  a  sorrow 
Works  with  such  healing  sympathy 

That  even  by  to-morrow 

The  grief  will  no  more  be. 
The  soul  is  a  creative  power : 
It  builds  this  wondrous  fleshly  frame, 
And  it  can  cure  the  ills  that  cower 

Within  it,  life  to  lame. 
Souls  are  all  brothers,  and  the  healthiest 

Draws  from  its  primal  source 

A  deep  benignant  force, 

To  which  the  first  and  wealthiest 
Of  earthly  goods  is  empty  chaff 


ROSA.  57 

Winnowed  by  wind  from  wheat, 
Or  as  the  worldling's  laugh 
Wherewith  he  would  his  own  soul  cheat. 
Rosa  ran  on,  before  her  father,  brother, 
To  meet  her  dearest  mother. 

In  a  gifted  girl,  outringing 
Joy  in  a  healthy  home,  a  fervor, 

Of  life  is  ever  bringing 

Fresh  will  and  strength  to  nerve  her 
For  each  return  of  morning.     Sorrow 
As  yet  could  take  no  living  root, 
But  each  day's  little  grief  the  morrow 
Dried  off  ere  it  could  grow  to  fruit. 
Rosa,  with  all  her  inward  brooding, 
Was  most  herself  when  other  eyes 
Looked  into  hers.     She,  excluding 
None  from  her  love,  closely  could  prize 


58  ROSA. 

Both  old  and  young,  the  false  and  true  man : 

Herself  so  fully  human. 
Where  the  rays  fell  of  her  warm  eyes 
They  made  love  sprout,  in  her  school-mates 
Growing  so  strong,  it  crushed  the  lies 

Of  Envy,  which  abates 

• 
Rarely  its  rancor  towards  the  gifted  good  : 

Envy  feeds  on  its  own  infected  blood. 

So  alive  was  she  with  fellow-feeling, 

Her  ruling  impulse  was  to  help 

The  weak,  happiest  when  kneeling 

By  the  sick  poor ;  nor  was  the  whelp 

Of  heartless  lust  beyond  the  reach 

Of  her  capacity  to  teach. 
A  sympathetic  tenderness  can  waken 
A  hope,  a  love,  in  soul  the  most  forsaken. 

Angelic  instincts  taught  her 
There  is  a  soul  of  good  in  evil  things. 


ROSA.  59 

And  now  caressing  years  had  brought  her  > 
A  fifteenth  May,  when  life  its  censer  swings 

With  freshest  perfumes  laden. 
Never  did  flowers  enrich  their  bloom 

With  joy  of  heavenlier  maiden; 

For  in  and  through  this  glow,  — 
As  light  upon  a  landscape's  beauty, 
Transfiguring  the  outward  show, — 
Shone  the  pure  soul  of  love  and  duty, 
Which,  like  th'  invisible  spirit  that  makes 

Night's  starr'd  sublimity, 
In  the  beholder's  raptured  being  wakes 
Feelings  of  high  divinity. 
Athrough  the  portals  garlanded 

Of  womanhood  she  gazed 
With  feelings  less  with  sadness  sped 
Than  joy  ;  nor  was  the  vista  hazed 
With  passion's  dim  imaginings, 


60  ROSA. 

"Which  make  the  self  an  ever-shifting  centre 

r 

Of  prosperous  being.     Wings, 
Gilded  by  whiter  rays,  young  Fancy  lent  her, 
Rays  that  illume  a  higher  plane 
Whereon  both  joy  and  pain 
Are  tempered  by  emotion 
That  stills  the  soul's  high  yearning, 
Like  cordial  piety's  devotion 
Invisible  inward  incense  burning. 
Beyond  the  self  she  could  untimely  look, 

Having  as  child  far  visions, 
Wiser  than  those  that  from  a  darkened  nook 
Rule  th'  aged  worldling's  confident  decisions. 
Appearances  had  never  flattered 

Even  her  untilled  youth 
With  misty  magnifyings.     Truth 
Enveloped  her  and  shattered 
The  films  that  cause  the  false  and  small  to  seem 


ROSA.  61 

The  large  and  true,  and  make, 
To  most,  life  a  delusive  dream, 
From  which  on  earth  they  never  wake. 
So,  into  womanhood  she  carried 
Infantile  innocence,  with  its  first  tender 
Blossoms,  indissolubly  married 
With  angel's  wisdom  to  defend  her. 
Her  Me  she  could  not  live  amid  the  shoals 
And  sands  whereon  life's  ocean  rolls, 
And  breaks  its  mightiness  in  foam. 
Like  the  finned  travelers  of  the  sea, 

Her  sole  congenial  home 
Was  in  the  deeps,  of  deep  humanity. 

And  these  she  found  beside 
The  shoals  ;  for  always  there  are  deeps 
Where  is  a  soul ;  and  where  abide 

Its  master-loves,  and  leaps 

Its  inmost  flame,  she  peered, 


62  ROSA. 

And  met  thankful  reflection  of  her  feeling, 
Thankf ullest  from  hearts  most  seared. 
Like  Pharos  high  she  stood,  appealing 

To  passers  mid  false  Fashion's 
Cold  shallows  and  unfervent  passions. 
None  were  repelled.     Her  beauty  drew 
All  to  her,  as  the  magnet  steel, 
And  then,  her  modest  earnestness  but  few, 
Nay  none,  could  long  withstand,  and  they  would  feel 
Their  hearts  warm  with  new  love. 
A  jealous  matron  spoke 
To  Rosa  with  a  sneer  would  move 
A  worldly  girl's  quick  wrath ;  it  could  provoke 

In  her  only  meek  humbleness. 
"  Nay,  I  pretend  to  naught,"  with  a  deep  blush 
She  said,  that  made  her  loveliness 
So  whelming,  it  could  crush 
The  matron's  jealousy,  that  she,  with  look 


ROSA.  63 

Of  mingled  love  and  shame, 

The  dazzling  maiden  took 
Into  her  arms,  —  with  a  self -blame 

Not  known  before,  —  did  press, 
And  with  true  tenderness  caress. 
Upon  her  cheek  Kosa's  tears  fell 

As  Heaven's  gift  of  rain 
In  autumn  to  depleted  well. 

Into  that  glowing  focus,  Rosa's  brain, 

Had  poured  their  ripening  rays 

Twenty-one  summers ;  she 
Felt  the  high  part  that  woman  plays, 
As  yet  but  half  self-consciously. 
The  mastering  passion,  that  unveils 
Life's  beauties,  wants,  vibrations,  deeps,  -*- 
As  morning's  glow  earth's  wonders,  —  assails 
The  whole  strong  being  to  wake  from  sleeps 


64  ROSA. 

That  hold  it  passive,  she  had  felt, 
Not  yielded  to  :  she  would  not  break 
Her  nature's  wholeness,  and  she  dwelt 
In  motives  so  impersonal,  that,  to  stake 
Them  on  uneven  marriage,  were 

To  risk  her  life's  success. 
The  man,  for  whom  she  might  have  joyed 
In  love's  full  rapture,  was  both  fair 
To  look  on  and  to  listen  to ;  to  bless 

Life-union  too  alloyed 

With  self.     She  lived  out  of  herself,  and  he 
For  and  within  himself.     Her  mate 

She  knew  he  could  not  be ; 
She  knew,  moreover,  how  to  school  her. 
So  strong  she  was  and  pure,  she  made  the  Fate 

Herself,  that  seemed  to  rule  her. 
The  heights  whereon  she  lived  were  heights 
From  lowliness.     Into  the  nights 


ROSA.  65 

Of  bodily  and  spiritual  need 
She  brought  beams  of  th'  illumination 
That  had  so  splendently  enfreed 
Herself.     There  was  accumulation 
Of-  wealthiest  wealth.     All  that  she  owned 
She  would  impart ;  and  as  her  riches 
Were  boundless  spiritual  treasures,  they  were  loaned 
Freely  as  air  or  promises  of  witches. 
In  her,  life  was  an  ever  active  love. 

As  whitened  Alps  the  Sun 

With  heavenly  heat  doth  move 
To  pour  unstinted  streams  upon 

The  thankful  plains  and  valleys, 

The  warmth  of  her  large  soul 
Drove  her  towards  unprovided  alleys, 

To  allay  a  ceaseless  dole. 

The  freedom  she  enjoyed, 

Through  soaring  powers  inborn,  — 


66  ROSA. 

By  thoughtful  will  whetted,  upbuoyed,  — 
Inspired  her  soul  with  life  the  thorn 
Of  baffled  love,  that  wounded 
A  tender  bosom,  to  draw  out, 
To  hush  the  petty  cries  that  sounded 
Through  that  wide  palace,  and  to  rout 
The  whimpering  imps  who  would  usurp 
Its  glowing  hospitable  halls. 

Thus  did  great  Freedom,  —  greater 
Than  passion-swayed  Jupiter,  — 
Offspring  of  spiritual  will, 
The  roots  of  amorous  love  extirp, 
With  its  loud  partial  calls. 
Nay  more,  she  could  distill, 
From  thwarted  feeling,  balm 
That  opened  wider  view, 
And  wrought  that  spirit-calm 
Of  conquest  which  doth  aye  renew 


ROSA.  67 

With  freshened  force  the  sway 
Of  the  high  self,  and  makes  an  atmosphere 
For  longer  sight  and  action's  surer  way. 
Thus  of  herself  she  grew  more  fully  master, 
Turning  to  light  whereby  to  steer 

What  seemed  at  first  disaster. 

Life  deepened  round  her,  and  the  more  she  knew 
The  more  she  found  to  do. 

Life  deepened,  but  it  darkened  not. 

Seen  deeper,  life  is  nowhere  dark. 

In  lookers'  vision  is  a  spot 

That  swallows  up  life's  hopeful  spark, 

A  spot  black  with  the  inground  grime 

Of  false  theologies  and  crime 

Ubiquitous.     Rosa  saw  deeper. 

Deeper  she  saw,  because  she  felt 
So  deeply,  purely.    Calm  as  dreamless  sleeper, 

She  saw  the  basest. 


68  ROSA. 

Near  her  dwell 

A  cruel  father  of  motherless  daughters. 
To  them  she  came  to  be  like  a  new  mother 
As  naturally  as  waters 
Their  level  find.     No  other 
Could  have  so  long  that  door 
Kept  open.     Hospitality 

He  knew  not,  and  his  core 
Was  so  unsocial  that,  to  flee 
A  stranger's  face  and  talk 
No  blandishment  could  balk. 
Deeper  than  blandishment 
Was  Rosa's  undesigned  attractiveness. 
In  her  triumphantly  were  blent 
The  soul's  and  body's  best  address. 
He  even  loved  to  see  her  enter, 

And  by  her  tuneful  voice 
And  the  quick  power  her  soulful  manners  lent  her 


ROSA.  69 

His  rudeness  was  entranced,  as  by  a  choice 
Adagio  is  wild  leopard's. 
To  his  mild  orphan  girls 
Her  presence  was.  a  guardianship,  as  shepherd's 

To  helpless  flock.     To  sudden  whirls 
Of  wrathful  ruggedness  he  was  a  prey, 
Tore  which,  as  galliots  in  a  squall, 
His  gentle  daughters  quailed.     One  day, 

On  provocation  small, 
Or  none,  he  thundered  angry  speech. 
Rosa  rose  quick  with  features  flushed, 
Spoke  warm  rebuke  at  such  a  breach, 
And  left  the  chamber.     Hushed 
As  funeral  group,  the  stillness  broken 

By  sobs,  was  that  sad  room. 
The  father  paced,  pale,  no  word  spoken ; 

The  daughters  sunk  in  gloom 
At  the  thought,  they  should  not  see  her  more. 


70  ROSA. 

A  slow  half  hour  had  gone  :  the  door 
Opened,  and  as  the  day's  first  light 
On  anxious  crew,  near  rockbound  coast, 

Fighting  'gainst  wind  and  night, 
Broke  on  them  Rosa's  beaming  face  :  almost 
Shrieked  the  daughters.     Her  countenance 
Alight  with  spiritual  beauty's  fire,  — 
As  one  in  heaven-transported  trance 
Listening  to  angelic  quire, — 
She  approached  the  father,  saying, 
In  voice  atremble  with  humility, — 
As  were  the  soul's  choice  sparkle  through  it  raying,  — 
"  Pardon,  0  pardon  me  !  " 
Astounded,  mute,  he  gazed ; 
Then  humbly  turning  to  his  daughters  mazed, 
As  he  a  life-wrong  would  confess 
In  tones  of  a  strange  tenderness, 
He  cried,  "  Forgive  !  forgive  !  forgive  !  " 


ROSA.  71 

Then  noiseless  left  the  room. 
This  is,  to  live,  to  live, 
Inly  said  Rosa,  as  she  felt  the  doom 
Of  tyranny  was  lifted.     Their  warm  tears 

Of  a  new  joy  mingled  with  hers 
In  close  embrace,  hers  who  had  plucked  the  burs 
That  daily  pricked  their  hearts  with  monstrous  fears. 
Rosa  had  sweetened  a  whole  family's  breath, 
Had  planted  life  where  had  been  death. 

Aye,  humanly  to  live 

Is  not,  to  keep  alert 
The  senses  with  befitting  food ; 
Is  not,  to  make  the  corporal  sieve,  — 
Which  is  but  animated  dirt,  — 
The  end,  it  being  a  means  to  spiritual  good ; 

Is  not,  to  flatter  pa.ssion 

With  wasteful  repetition 

Of  its  subservient  ration, 


72  ROSA. 

To  help  hungry  ambition 

Up  to  its  slippery  heights, 

To  gather  fruit  that  feeds 

To  plethora  the  greeds ;  — 
But 't  is,  to  work  so  that  the  soul 
Be  ever  splendent  with  the  lights, 
The  consecrated  lights,  of  love  and  duty, 
Illumination  that  from  pole  to  pole 
Keeps  the  earth  freshened  with  unearthly  beauty. 
To  arrest  a  tear  before  it  fall, 
And  make  it  glisten  in  a  smile, 
To  antidote  a  sore  heart's  gall, 
Efface  with  truth  incipient  guile, 

Divert  a  threatening  hate, 
And  harness  it  to  draw  with  love, 
And  thus  to  substitute  for  Fate 
A  lordlier  mandate  from  above ; 
This  is  to  brighten,  vivify 
Dear  life,  and  lift  it  human  high. 


FOUNDATIONS. 

LIKE  the  two  hands  that  knead  our  daily  bread, 
Nature  and  man  should  work  with  even  will 
And  watchfulness,  when  innocent  childhood  lifts 
Its  helpless  palms  and  prayerful  eyes,  and  prays 
For  love  and  wisdom  in  the  guardianship 
Of  its  young  years.     Nature  is  ever  wise, 
Watchful  and  active  as  th'  unhalting  Sun, 
That  warms  and  keeps  alive  all  earthly  being. 
On  man  Nature  outpours  her  choicest  wealth ; 
He  is  entrusted  to  her  motherly  love ; 
Part  of  herself,  and  yet,  greater  than  she, 
Reflectively  creative,  he  doth  rise 
Out  of  great  Nature,  and  above  her  soars ; 


74  FOUNDATIONS. 

For  he  hath  wings  of  thought,  precursive  thought, 
Wherewith,  and  manful  will,  he  rules  his  own 
And  her  resources  vast. 

Hale  human  babe 
Is  a  potential  deity  on  earth  ; 
Lord  of  the  outward  world,  if  he  do  grow 
To  be  lord  of  himself.     Deep  Nature  calls 
On  deeper  man  to  mould  an  infant's  powers 
And  inborn  potencies,  within  man's  sphere, 
His  boundless  sphere,  almost  omnipotent. 
Love  and  high  reason  are  his  master-gifts, 
Empowering  him  to  be  like  to  a  God. 
Teach  the  loved  child  to  know  and  love  all  things, — 
Earthworms,  that  so  beneficently  work 
Beneath  the  surface  of  the  teemful  soil, 
Insects  that  buzz  joyously  through  the  air, 
The  bird  who  pipes  a  jubilant  holiday 
To  tune  man's  heart  into  blithe  harmony 


FOUNDATIONS.  75 

With  this  all-quickening  multitudinous  life, 
The  obedient  horse  and  ox  that  multiply 
His  strength  a  hundred-fold.     Show  him  the  Sun  . 
Setting  dim  dawn  ablaze  with  full-orbed  light, 
Higher  and  higher  in  benignant  power 
Mounting  to  bounteous  hot  magnificence. 
Teach  him  no  fear ;  the  ragef ul  hurricane, 
The  thunderclap,  let  him  not  dread.     Teach  him 
To  shrink  before  rebuke,  —  even  though  it  be 
No  louder  than  the  faintest  whisper's  breath, — 
That  from  his  deepest  sounds  with  sacred  voice. 
Within  his  inmost  is  a  deathless  spark, 
Of  fire  to  guide  and  rule.     This  is  for  him 
The  holy  of  holies.     Here,  in  humble  awe, 
Let  him  oft  hearken :  thus  hearkening,  he 
Is  nearest  to  th'  Almighty.     When  the  stars 
Look  down  on  him,  and  he  on  them,  is  wrought 
The  chain  that  binds  him  to  the  supreme  Mind : 


76  FOUNDATIONS. 

These  myriad  eyes  embrace  him  with  their  beams. 
Like  diamond,  filling  its  quick  heart  with  light 
From  the  far  sun,  to  glow  with  mingled  fire, 
Man's  deep  capacity  for  reverence 
Swells  to  religious  thought  when  midnight  opes, 
With  shining  stellar  keys,  Infinitude, 
Deepening  the  moral  beauty  of  his  life. 


POETRY. 

IT  is  not  in  the  trees  or  in  the  ocean, 
Nor  in  the  air  or  earth  or  spacious  skies, 
Nor  in  the  forms  of  nature,  or  the  motion 
Of  stream  or  fawn,  not  even  in  the  eyes 
Of  woman :  in  the  soul  of  man  it  lies, 
This  peerless,  heavenly  gift,  creative  power 
That  lights  and  consecrates  all  these,  and  plies 
For  man's  uplifting  in  bright  happiest  hour 
This  dearest  privilege  and  his  divinest  dower. 


CEASELESS   CREATION. 

THE  smile  in  the  eye 
Is  born  but  to  die. 
The  bud  of  the  rose 
Full  blooms  but  to  fade, 
The  faster  it  grows 
The  sooner  't  is  dead. 
The  mother's  delight 
At  day-break  is  born, 
'T  is  dead  ere  the  night 
Of  the  next  gloomy  morn : 
The  father,  he  strains 
Through  turmoil  and  strife ; 
Mid  bafflings  and  pains 


CEASELESS  CREATION.  79 

Death  swallows  his  life. 
Life  's  all  a  dream, 
Death  is  a  sleep, 
And  joy  but  a  gleam, 
While  trouble  we  keep. 

Put  out  the  great  light 
Of  faith  and  of  hope, — 
In  the  darkness  of  night 
You  ever  will  grope ; 
For  hope  and  dear  faith 
Are  the  sun  of  the  soul : 
'T  is  your  blindness  that  saith 
All  is  dark, —  like  the  mole. 

The  smile  in  the  eye, 

It  never  can  die ; 

From  the  soul  't  is  a  flash 


80  CEASELESS  CREATION. 

That  in  joy  will  survive 

The  gloom  and  the  crash 

Of  this  earthly  hive. 

A  soul  hath  the  rose 

That  renews  its  bright  birth : 

Perennial  it  blows 

To  sweeten  the  earth. 

As  star  lost  in  day, 

The  babe  hath  been  won 

By  glory  of  ray 

Outshining  the  sun. 

The  mother's  blind  eyes 

Can't  see  its  ascent, 

As  with  saddest  sighs 

Her  bosom  is  rent. 

The  babe  comes  down  to  her, 

With  kisses  doth  woo  her, 

With  tenderest  greeting 


CEASELESS  CREATION.  81 

Whispers  heavenly  meeting. 
The  father,  he  meets  it 
(With  a  new  sight  he 's  blest), 
In  wonderment  greets  it, 
From  earth-toils  at  rest. 

Life  's  not  a  mere  dreaming, 
'T  is  rather  a  beaming 
From  million-fold  fire, 
Each  kindled  and  signed 
By  the  infinite  Mind, 
Each  aye  straining  higher. 
Creative  is  life, 
A  ceaseless  creation, 
A  getting  things  rife 
For  endless  mutation. 
For  change  is  its  law 
C    And  motion  its  joyance  j 


<2  CEASELESS  CREATION. 

Its  flow  hath  no  flaw, 
And  it  lives  upon  buoyance. 
When  once  't  is  in  being 
It  never  can  cease ; 
Delight  of  th'  Allseeing, 
Eternal  its  lease. 


SKETCHES. 

BETWEEN  curved  eyebrows  and  her  auburn  hair 

A  smooth  white  forehead  shone, 
Like  finest  Parian  glistening  in  the  glare 
Of  genius'  handwork,  as,  all  alone 
In  beauty,  flash  the  Paphian's  wondrous  limbs. 
The  silken  eyebrows  arch  above 
Soft  eyes  aglow  with  love, 
So  warm,  their  lustre  it  bedims. 
A  Cupid's  bow  are  her  two  lips, 
So  sweet,  each  of  the  other  sips 
Moisture  to  make  itself  the  sweeter. 
In  cheek  and  dimpled  chin,  small  oval  ear, 

Is  nothing  to  defeat  her 
Dazzling,  quick-conquering  charm.    A  leer 


84  SKETCHES. 

Quailed  before  all  this  beauty,  which 
Rounded  her  neck,  then  slid 
Lower,  so  fresh  and  rich 
Itself  it  quickly  hid 

(Like  virtue  from  a  wicked  world 

Or  fear  before  a  flag  unfurled) 

'Neath  kerchief,  laces  and  like  covers, 

Delicate  provocatives  to  lovers. 

But  for  this  hiding,  the  far-famed 

Greek  Helen's  bosom  had  been  shamed. 

These  beauties  are  beauties,  and  great ; 
But  they  are  for  joyance,  not  sorrow, 
For  early  years,  not  for  the  late, 
For  to-day,  and  not  for  to-morrow ; 
They  are  shallow,  they  cannot  be  deep, 
Beauties  when  you  can  laugh,  not  when  you  weep. 
They  wither  too  soon  and  grow  cold, 
And  die  before  they  are  old. 


SKETCHES.  85 

While  admiration  of  a  manly  nose 
•And  eyes  cerulean  blue, 
O'erhung  by  eyebrows  lightly  brown, 
Mounts  towards  climax  on  th'  ivory  hue 
Of  forehead  with  smooth  wavy  crown, 

And  in  its  rapture  knows 
Not  where  to  pause,  —  all  features  melt 

In  a  transfiguring  light, 

Which,  like  the  sacred  belt 
Of  halo,  quickens  blessed  sight. 
From  deathless  inward  beauty  sprang 

That  belt  of  holy  brightness, 
Beauty  of  feelings,  thoughts,  that  rang 
With  echoes  from  the  soul  of  rightness. 
Mere  outward  human  beauty  is  a  mask, 
An  empty,  perishable  cask. 
Because  within  his  brain  are  born 
Powers  angelic,  given  to  bloom 


86  SKETCHES. 

In  spheres  higher  than  this,  his  earthly  morn, 
Man's  compact  countenance  has  the  room 
For  supreme  beauty,  variousness  and  life. 
Before  a  face  and  head  thus  nobly  bright 
Joyed  admiration  rose  to  .fullest  height, 
Beholding  great  humanity  so  rife. 

Th'  unconscious  holder  of  such  gifts 

And  beauties  rapturously  gazed 

Upon  the  loveliness  that  blazed 
Beneath  that  auburn  hair. 

'T  was  not  the  beauty  that  uplifts, 

Fresh  as  it  was  and  rapturing  fair. 
He  looked  and  passed ;  for  him  here  was  no  mate. 
Corporeal  loveliness  was  not  his  bait. 
A  life-partner  waited  his  coming,  splendid 

From  glow  of  feminine  beauty  blended 
Of  purest  innocence 

And  rich  emotion's  reach,  with  sense 
So  broadly  masculine, 


SKETCHES.  87 

It  lay  beneath  her  feeling's  nobleness 
Like  whitest  marble  of  an  Apennine, 
Which  Angelo's  sure  hand  is  to  caress, 
Beneath  the  fervent  opulence  and  grace 
Of  flower  and  foliage  on  great  Italy's  fair  face. 


NO  END. 

THERE  is  no  end :  Eternity 
Seizes  each  atom,  and  to  be 

Involves  unceasing  growth. 
MIND  quickens  all : 

To  die  were  rotting  sloth, 
Hateful  impossible  impotence. 
Life  tendeth  upward,  and  to  fall 

Is  but  a  seeming,  whence 

Uprise  again  all  things  : 
Mind,  their  great  mother,  lendeth  wings. 
Heart-beats  cease  not  within  the  tomb  : 
The  "  spiritual  body  "  quits  dissolving  flesh, 
And  far  above  a  fleshly  doom 


NO  END.  89 

Carries  the  soul's  unceasing  throb  to  fresh 

And  higher  planes  of  being. 

Life,  in  its  million  shapes, 

Is  an  incessant  fleeing 
From  outworn  moulds  to  new ;  escapes 

From  matter's  bonds,  ascending 

Through  infinite  degrees, 
Creating  and  effacing,  rending 

Material  forms  with  th'  ease 

Of  spirit-mastership, 

Aye  razing  to  rebuild, 
Through  instantaneous  power  to  equip 
With  its  deep  inwardness  all  atoms,  filled 
Thereby  with  an  instinctive  need 

Of  nursing  every  seed 
Planted  by  overruling  Mind. 

Mysterious  Mind  lends  eyes 
To  all  things,  even  to  what  seems  blind, 
To  comets  in  the  boundless  skies, 


90  NO  END. 

Nor  less  to  molecules  that  creep 

Through  th'  universe,  upbuilding  it, 

Mightiest  of  instruments,  that  heap 
Life  upon  life,  and  fit 

Parts  to  their  place  in  grandest  wholes, 

Obedient  to  primordial  Will. 
Mind  launches  thus  infinitude  of  souls, 
The  purposes  of  being  to  fulfill, 
Mind's  mighty  power  and  splendor  aye  attended 
By  thoughts  of  perfectness,  so  interblended 

With  mind's  own  essence,  that  they  glow 

Twin  sovereign  lights,  —  perennial  bow 

Of  promise,  over  all  supreme. 

Immeasurably  bright  and  pure, 
They  waken  in  all  creatures  soaring  dream, 

And  thereby  all  forever  lure 

Upward  towards  better,  higher, 
Inflaming  all  with  quenchless,  holy  fire. 


OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY. 

BEAUTY  is  so  deep  't  is  one  with  life, 

And  no  imaginative  knife 

Can  part  their  threads,  close  intertwined 

By  primal  generative  Mind. 
Nay,  Beauty  might  be  called  the  life  of  being, 
Primordial  essence  bright, 

Aye,  very  soul  of  the  all-decreeing, 
Original,  creative,  holy  Might.  — 

Sea-shells  come  up  from  the  salt  sea, 

Sprinkling  fresh  beauty  through  their  eyes, 

Iridescent  interfusedly ; 

With  gleam  of  sea-dipped  dyes, 

And  th'  infinite  grace  of  varying  curves, 


92  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY. 

Refining,  soothing  tenderest  nerves. 
With  what  delight  of  recognition 
We  greet  the  peeping  leaf-buds  green, 

Into  life's  first  fruition 
Bursting  in  multitudinous  sheen, 
With  unslaked  thirstiness 
Drinking  the  sweetened  air, 
Reveling  in  the  sun's  warm  caress, 
Outgushed  so  numerous,  broad,  and  fair, 
They  make  the  forest's  grandeur  vast. 
And  now  they  are  past,  fallen,  gone  to  enrich  the  roots 
That  nourished  them.     But  Beauty  is  not  past. 
Instead  of  leaves,  from  each  tree  shoots 

Radiance,  as  though  the  sun 
Had  showered  stars  among  the  branches  : 
But  for  an  hour  ;  at  noon  are  none,  — 
Melted  by  the  same  might  that  launches, 
Even  in  winter,  heated  arrows.   Lo  ! 
In  a  night  Beauty  re-assumes 


OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY.  93 

His  sway,  sheeting  with  snow 
Each  twig  and  limb  :  the  forest  looms, 

In  the  calm  morning  light, 
A  wondrous  maze  of  sparkling  white. 
Again  the  sap  reflows,  and  floods 

The  earth  with  leafy  green. 
A  twofold  beauty  is  in  the  woods, 
A  vocal  rivaling  the  seen  ! 
Music  of  a  transcendant  quire, 
Cadence  unreached  by  instrument  or  words, 
Sweet  improvisation,  straining  higher, 
In  the  melodious  worshiping  of  birds 
At  dawn,  spontaneous  anthem,  rich  and  pure, 

Mounting  to  Heaven  whence  it  came, 
To  man's  devotion  timely  overture, 

"Waking  religious  joy  without  a  name. 

From  rivulet  to  river, 

From  cataract  to  dew, 

From  lakelet's  shore  to  ocean's, 


94  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY. 

Great  Beauty  is  the  giver 

Of  joyance  ever  new ; 

Through  aspects  and  through  motions, 

In  Nature's  colors,  forms 

Of  leopard  and  of  fishes, 

In  sunny  calms,  in  storms, 

In  human  thoughts  and  wishes, 

In  lightning's  lifeful  flashes, 

In  children's  silken  hair, 

In  eyes  and  soft  eyelashes,  — 

Beauty  is  everywhere. 
And  man,  to  be  himself,  must  see  it : 
Chief  child  of  Beauty,  he  should  rise 
To  the  height  of  his  high  birth  :  nay,  he  must  be  it 

In  feeling  thought,  if  he  would  prize 
The  grandeur  of  his  opportunities, 
The  splendor  of  his  possibilities. 
Beauty  sparkles  over  surfaces  because 

It  vivifies  the  core. 


OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY.  95 

Inseparable  from  life,  one  are  their  laws  : 
Beauty  is  the  gold  in  life's  ore. 
The  highest  we  can  know 
Is  human  life  ;  in  man 
Beauty's  great  lessons  glow 
Their  deepest,  in  the  van 
Of  all  corporeal  being. 
His  body,  what  a  wonder  ! 
Earth's  supreme  beauty,  all  o'erseeing, 
Majestic  more  than  any  creature  under 
Heaven's  cope  ;  superlatively  framed 

For  strength,  and  spring,  and  grace, 
Alone  erect,  by  heat  or  cold  untamed, 
In  his  compact,  far-looking,  listening  face 
Form  and  expressiveness  unmatched. 
Behind  upreaching  forehead  bold,  — 
As  Heaven's  best  will  had  been  unlatched, 
And  let  loose  potencies  untold,  — 
That  mighty  product  lies,  the  human  brain, 


96  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY. 

The  miracle  of  miracles,  the  seat 

Of  Mind ;  Mind  which,  once  growing,  never  wanes, 

But  action  follows  its  eternal  beat. 

Mind  !     Through  those  sun-shaped  orbs,  the  eyes, 

Lightens  this  mightiness ! 
Behind  in  awful  silence  lies 
The  tool  of  puissance  only  less 
Than  high  omnipotence,  — 
Puissance  of  such^a  might 
That  should  it  rend  its  ordained  continents 
Before  its  glare  would  pale  all  light 
Of  suns,  and  to  a  whisper  sink 
The  tropic  thunderburst. 
But  on  this  fearful  brink 
We  stand  safe  and  assured.     We  are  not  curst 

By  primal  power  :  we  are  blest 
By  a  divine  beneficence, 
Potent  to  subject  all  to  law's  behest, 
Wielding  'gainst  chaos  absolute  defense. 


OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY.  97 

And  this  quick  instrument  of  soul, 
This  master-mass  of  matter  superfine, 
This  vivid  brain,  is  only  great  as  whole 
Through  self-subsistent  parts  that  all  combine 

In  rhythmical  subordination, 
Its  maker,  Mind,  with  the  lower  organs  holding 

The  infinite  details  of  creation, 

With  the  highest  in  its  grasp  enfolding 

The  largest,  deepest,  thought  and  feeling, 

The  grandeur  and  the  reach  of  Man, 
His  splendent  possibilities  revealing, 
Therewith  divinist  beauty,  purpose,  plan. 

The  nearer  we  to  spiritual  sources, 

The  fuller,  subtler,  is  the  unfolding 
Of  Beauty's  life.     Man  with  his  earthly  forces 

Gets  only  glimpses  bright,  beholding, 
Through  deep,  inspiring  sensibilities, 
Resplendent  tokens,  signs, 


98  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  BEAUTY. 

Of  what  the  supreme  wisdom  is 

In  its  beneficent  designs. 
.On  earth  man  could  easier  the  sun  outstare 
Than  front,  unblasted,  Beauty's  heavenliest  glare. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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This  book,  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-100m-9,'52(A3105)444 


JPS 


P.al 


1251 
C139  1 


Life,  death, 
and  ntl 


poems  , 


PS 

1251 
C139  1 


